When we moved to Ventura, one of the things that stuck out was how everyone & their mother wore those funny-looking snow boots. That’s what I call them, anyway. You may know them as Uggs. Didn’t matter if it was 85 degrees out, women of all ages were wandering about in those things. The BF thought that maybe they were required, perhaps some kind of Ventura uniform or dress code. I vowed I’d never give in.
Technically, I have kept my vow.
Saturday night, after a long day of alternately standing in one spot counting tiny pieces of metal and sprinting about the plant, my feet were killing me. And the BF gave me a silver box. Too tired to ask questions, I opened the box to find a pair of chocolate brown sheepskin boots. I slid them onto my tired feeties and OH THE SQUISHY, FUZZY JOY! I love them! I get it now. And I have joined the masses. Bonus? They are Costco brand, genuine sheepskin, and cost a third of the brand name Ugg boots. From what I can tell they are nearly identical, not that I care. My toes are so grateful.
Squishy!
… since my last post. I do this every time I start a blog. I post a couple of times, then let a few months go by. When I get around to posting again, I feel like I need to start over. Silly, no? So how about a quick recap:
- I finally quit smoking cigarettes. Really, truly quit – no more hiding from the BF until he starts smoking again. I do miss it sometimes, I won’t lie. It’s an ongoing process.
- I joined Weight Watchers in August and have lost 15 pounds so far.
- The BF’s dad has moved to Ventura. I love having him close by. He is currently battling a particularly mean form of prostate cancer; life is much more serious lately.
That about covers the big stuff. No need to scrap this blog and start a new one. Yay for ending my serial blog killing spree!
This weekend is a weekend that I’ve dreaded for a few months now. Very early on Sunday morning, July 12th, is the third anniversary of my brother’s death. His name is Nicolas Castanon… we called him Nico.
And I still have a tough time using the past tense.
I’ll spend the majority of the day crying and smiling, looking at photos, and drinking tequila, while listening to Chente sing “El Rey” on repeat. Normally I’d smoke a little mota in Nico’s memory, but I might be offered a permanent position soon, and that would mean a drug test. Not sure I could make HR understand that it was part of my personal memorial ritual. (Nico would probably laugh at that and tease me for being a “good girl.”) Anyway, in the days leading up I think about doing something special, perhaps planting a tree or plant in his memory, or maybe throw flowers into the ocean. But the day will come, and I’ll sit in my pajamas and cry.
It’s just what I do.
Part of me feels guilty for not driving to Napa to be with my familia. But my mom has this whole thing going… it’s too much for me. She’s planned an announcement at church, a rosary at the cemetary, then a barbecue at the house. And I know everyone has to mourn in their own way. She lost her beloved son and it’s her way of dealing with the day. But to me, that’s too much like a party. I’ll party on his birthday, but not on the day he died. I can’t. It feels wrong to me. So I’ll do my thing again this year, and remember my brother in my own way.
Me: (lounging comfortably on the couch watching one of my favorite silly TV shows)
The BF: (Walks through the door, gazes at the TV and says mock accusingly) “Why are you watching Ugly Betty without me?!”
Me: (Pausing TV, confused) “What? Why? I thought you didn’t like this show?”
The BF: “Babe, c’mon… why do YOU love it?”
Me: (Smiling sheepishly) “Because… well, because I love Betty… I relate to her. I AM Ugly Betty!”
The BF: (laughing) “Exactly.”
Ummm… thank you?
He sure knows how to make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. ;)
A year and a half ago, the BF and I made the most unlikely move of either of our lives. We decided to leave our families and friends and move to southern California. It’s been a real rollercoaster… I’ve been happy, scared, lonely, fascinated. The BF has been under the most stress he’s ever experienced, but he loves it. As a couple we’ve had to do a lot of growing… without friends or family here, we’ve had to be even more to each other. It’s been interesting, and though we’re too real to be ‘perfect,’ I’ve been thinking that I’m actually pretty happy in Ventura. There are still days when I miss Napa… especially when I read updates from the fam on facebook and feel left out of all the fun they’re having without me. And then little things like this happen:
Dolphin!
Yeah, I know, it looks like a tiny black dot floating near the horizon… but trust me, it’s a dolphin! The BF and I stopped for sandwiches and then parked out at Surfer’s Point to enjoy the view. We noticed a group of pelicans diving for dinner and then there they were… a small group of dolphins feeding just offshore. Besides feeling like an idiot for leaving my brand new camera at home for the first time in weeks, it was the most exciting experience I’ve had in Ventura. Dolphins! Seriously, Napa is gorgeous and everything, but trust me when I say there are no dolphins there.
Little gifts, they’re the best kind.
